


Mexico I

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Alfonso Herrera and Christos Vasilopoulos [12]
Category: Actor RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Greek Actor RPF, Mexican Actor RPF, Sense8 (TV) RPF, The Exorcist (TV) RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21760828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Alfonso Herrera/Christos Vasilopoulos storyline in the BDSM RPS RPGCitadel.
Relationships: Alfonso Herrera/Christos Vasilopoulos
Series: Citadel: Alfonso Herrera and Christos Vasilopoulos [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1013271
Kudos: 1





	Mexico I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Alfonso Herrera/Christos Vasilopoulos storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

"Almost nine million people live in Mexico City," Alfonso tells Christos as their driver takes them from the airport to Alfonso's condo which he hasn't seen in almost a year. "It's the most populous city in North America."

"That's amazing. We don't even have one million in Athens," Christos replies, looking eagerly out the window. "It's so busy."

"It can be really overwhelming at first, if you take it in one piece," Alfonso agrees, "but there are so many different neighbourhoods and a lot of them feel.. smaller, more intimate... like towns inside a city."

Christos turns away from the window in favor of watching his lover as he talks. "Do you feel comfortable here?"

"I love it here," Alfonso says with a smile. "It's one of the most vibrant cities in the world and the people are amazing."

"Do you see yourself always keeping a home here?" Christos asks, curious. "You know, like having this be your home base?"

"I'll always keep a home here," Alfonso nods, looking out the window and then back at Christos. "But I don't know. I suppose it depends on how other people," a small smile creasing his lips, "feel about it."

Christos grins at the tacit acknowledgment of their relationship, of how much bigger it's gotten recently. "I look forward to learning the city through your eyes," he murmurs. It's a challenge to keep his hands to himself in the car, when they've gotten accustomed to touching each other casually. But he knows it's important.

"And learning some Spanish?" Alfonso says with a grin.

"Absolutely." Christos leans in. "I already know 'Dios mio,' and 'mas'... What's next?"

Alfonso laughs. "I promise I'll teach you all the dirty ones if you also learn the basics... Hola, como esta?"

"Hola, como esta?" Christos repeats. "Muy bien, gracias."

"Very good," Alfonso says, absolutely delighted. "Do you know how to say you're pleased to meet someone?"

Christos grimaces. "Enchante?"

"Mucho gusto," Alfonso supplies helpfully, still smiling. "It'll come and some day it'll be your turn to teach me Greek."

"Mucho gusto," Christos repeats, losing himself in his lover's dark eyes.

Alfonso stares back for a long moment before breaking away to look out the window, suddenly very aware of their driver. "We're almost there," he says quietly, letting his fingers brush the back of Christos's hand on the seat between them.

"I can't wait," Christos murmurs, smiling a little. Truly, they've been behaving themselves for _hours_. Especially considering the hold-up in Mexican customs when the official choked on Christos's Greek passport, and Alfonso had to sit around waiting for him. It's been a long day, and he wants to touch his lover again.

Alfonso smiles at that and settles back, pointing out various points of interest until they pull up in front of his building, the first forty-seven floors of which houses the Ritz-Carlton. "The residences have a separate entrance and there's a direct elevator to the penthouse floor," he explains, getting out and waiting while the driver pulls their bags from the trunk. "I'll give you a keycard for it and keys for the apartment when we get upstairs."

Shading his eyes, Christos leans back to try and spy the top of the building. "Okay." He tries not to act blown away, but it shakes him to hear his lover so casually discussing the new ripple in their relationship. "You must have an amazing view."

"It's incredible. Wait til you see," Alfonso says, paying for their ride and generously tipping the driver. There is a bellboy on call but they don't have enough luggage to need him. Alfonso leads the way inside, stopping at the front desk to introduce Christos as a friend who will be staying with him for a while and getting his information entered for his unit and the building. He checks his mailbox but Marisol has already picked everything up. Finally they head upstairs, Alfonso sliding his keycard through the reader and pressing the button for the 55th floor. "There's four units up here," he says as they step off. "Two at our end, two at the other. My neighbour's rarely at home. He's some kind of financier but I don't know exactly what he does."

Christos steps inside behind his lover and blinks. The penthouse is huge and airy, the windows gigantic. "This is stunning," he says, crossing the living space to stare out at the city far below. "Beautiful."

"Thanks. I was one of the first to buy into the building so I got my choice of units. They only finished last year so I've been here maybe three or four times at this point." Alfonso smiles at Christos. "Do you want a tour or do you want to kiss me?" he asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"It's a safe bet I always want to kiss you," Christos answers with a snicker. He turns to take Alfonso's hand and drag him into his arms, covering his lover's mouth with his own. "Tonight," he says, hungrily sliding his hands beneath Alfonso's shirt, "I'm going to fuck you against those windows." Floor to ceiling, with Mexico City laid out below.

Alfonso moans. He can't help it. "Good thing we're fifty-five floors up," he says, a shiver running through his frame, Christos's hands lighting him up.

Christos grins. "Show me your bedroom." He'll worry about his bag later. Maybe much later. "And then we'll eat."

Alfonso links their fingers and pulls Christos down the hall, past the guest bedroom and bath and the second sitting area to the master bedroom with its huge expanse of windows and its own sitting area plus the huge ensuite which, like everything else, looks out over the city.

The views truly are stunning, but Christos only has eyes for his lover. He considers himself incredibly lucky that Alfonso has invited him into his home, into his life. And he's determined not to fuck this up. "Take your clothes off," he murmurs, pulling off his own shirt. "I want you in your bed."

Alfonso pulls his t-shirt over his head and drops his jeans, slipping off his shorts and his socks as well. His eyes locked on Christos. "In or on the bed?" he asks with a small smile, already achingly hard, his cock wet at its tip.

Leaving his clothes puddled on his shoes, Christos lies back on the bed. Hand on his stiff cock, slowly stroking. "Come here. I want you to ride me."

Alfonso grabs lube and a condom from the bedside drawer. He climbs on the bed, straddling Christos's upper thighs, the condom handed over while he slicks his fingers with lube.

His eyes hot on his gorgeous lover, Christos tears open the condom packet and sheaths himself in rubber. He's still not over this, the wicked newness of watching Alfonso prep himself. "So hot," he says, stroking his lover's thigh.

"Maybe one of these days I'll stay prepped for you," Alfonso teases, moaning softly as he stretches himself open.

The corner of Christos's mouth kicks up in a smile. "While you're at work? Or when it's just the two of us?"

"When it's the two of us," Alfonso says firmly, easing his fingers free and knee-walking up Christos's body. "I don't play around at work."

"I like that idea very much." Christos slides his hands over Alfonso's lean hips, and dips one long finger into his hole. Testing, and shivering with response at the intense heat.

Another moan spills from Alfonso's lips. "Por favor..."

"Take me in," Christos urges, pulling him closer. "I'll give you everything." Since that fateful day when he slipped and used the L word, he's been freer with his feelings. Trusting more that his emotions are welcome.

Reaching behind him, Alfonso lines Christos's cock up with his hole, the head catching on the still-tight ring of muscle and drawing a low, needy groan from him before his body gives and he sinks down, whimpering softly.

"Fuck yes," Christos breathes, his fingertips digging into Alfonso's skin. He lets his lover sink down for one moment, two -- then he thrusts upward with a quick jerk of his hips, burying himself.

Alfonso cries out, cock spitting precome. He leans forward, planting his hands on Christos's chest, already lifting and falling again.

It feels sublime, so overwhelming to be so deep inside his lover. "Yes, love," Christos murmurs, sliding his hands up to pinch and toy with Alfonso's nipples.

Alfonso curses beneath his breath, fingers kneading Christos's skin as he rides him, hard and then harder still.

Closing one hand around his lover's cock, Christos begins to stroke. He loves feeling every tremor of response quake through Alfonso's body, around him. "Come for me."

There's only a moment's hesitation before Alfonso's body catches up with the words and his orgasm slams through him, body clenching tight around Christos's cock as he cries out.

 _Christ_. In awe, Christos watches, wincing a little at the clench of Alfonso's body. When his lover begins to slow down he rolls him to his back, kneeling up to thrust fast and hard. Choking out a cry when his climax explodes through him.

 _Dios..._ Alfonso shudders hard as Christos empties himself into the latex between them, the pleasure that ripples through him almost like a second orgasm. He clutches at Christos's arms, digging his nails in, holding on tight.

Momentarily speechless, Christos stares at his gorgeous lover for a second, then drops down to nuzzle his throat. Breathing him in for the brief time before he has to pull out.

"You're incredible," Alfonso murmurs, twisting his head for a kiss.

Christos smiles and kisses him again. "I was thinking the same about you," he whispers, and shifts his weight, reaching down to hold onto the condom. "Bathroom is... that way?" he says, guessing it's one of the doors at the other end of the en suite.

Alfonso nods, watching Christos go, feeling utterly contented in this moment.

Strolling back after washing up, Christos stretches out next to his lover. "Hey, lovely," he says with a smile. "What can I do to make your life better?"

"You could feed me," Alfonso says, smiling back. "Marisol said she stocked the kitchen or we could order in or you could make me go out." He chuckles softly, very obviously not so keen on the last.

"Nah, I like cooking for you. Can't do it without music, though." Christos places a kiss on his lips then gets up to pull on a pair of well-worn jeans.

"The condo is wired," Alfonso says, rolling out of bed and grabbing a pair of shorts from the walk-in closet. "I'll give you the password and you just send your playlist to the home setup."

"All right. How familiar are you with Greek pop music?" A smile quirks Christos's lips as he pulls open the refrigerator and starts inventorying the contents. "I'm kidding," he adds, thinking of Kostas for an instant. "I won't subject you to that."

"Is that really what you listen to?" Alfonso asks, leaning against the huge kitchen island.

"No. I really like American hard rock. Tool, that kind of thing." A package wrapped in white butcher paper is revealed to contain pork tenderloin, and Christos nods in satisfaction. "Do you ever listen to your own stuff?"

That gets a soft snort and a shake of Alfonso's head. "No. It's... I was never really a musician or singer. It all seems very manufactured to me, like a role I played."

"Not a singer?" Christos pauses in his search for a frying pan to look incredulously back over his shoulder. "Manufactured, maybe, I couldn't judge that. But you have real talent."

Alfonso ducks his head a little. "Thank you, but it's mostly behind me," he says. "I'd rather be known for my acting."

"You're certainly on the right path for that. Giving me all these naughty priest fantasies," Christos teases, laying a pan on the stove and slicing butter into it. "You should get an Emmy for playing Tomas."

"That's very nice of you to say but I think there's a good chance we won't even be renewed for next season," Alfonso says regretfully, watching Christos move around his kitchen.

"Seriously?" Frowning, Christos turns his attention to preparing their dinner for a few minutes. "What happens then, if you don't get renewed? Do you go on auditions, search for a new job? Or...?"

"I've had a couple offers to join series," Alfonso says, getting up to pull dishes from a cupboard and cutlery from a drawer. "It would depend on how Dead Poets goes."

"Are you excited to take a break from all the tv stuff and focus on the stage?" Christos asks, hoping he's not wrong in his assessment of the situation. "Is it, I don't know, getting back to a purer form of your art or something?" In the pan the pork sizzles, sending up delicious scents.

"Yes, but I love TV as well," Alfonso says, setting out some placemats as well. "As long as it's a good role and I'm not just taking it for money or to have my face out there."

Christos nods understanding. "The offers you've had recently, are they for good roles?"

Alfonso nods, slipping back onto his stool after opening a bottle of wine. "There's a Mexican mini-series and an American program, Queen of the South? Both are happy to let me do the other and to wait until I'm finished Dead Poet's."

"And have you decided?" The meat goes into the oven and Christos begins to whisk cream for the sauce. "Did you agree yet?"

"No." Alfonso shakes his head. "I can't until we get official notice on the Exorcist and I don't want to curse things. If either of them want me that badly, they'll still be there when I'm ready."

"Ahh, I see." Christos quirks an eyebrow. "Is any of that wine for me?"

"Si, but I was saving it for dinner," Alfonso says with a smile, already moving to pull down a couple of glasses from a different cupboard and pour Christos a glass.

"Dinner is almost ready," Christos tells him with a smile, and digs through the fridge for fresh greens and salad fixings. "How many days do I get you to myself before you report to rehearsal?"

"Four. I start on Monday." Alfonso sets the half full wineglass in front of Christos. "And tonight."

"I'll take it. And I'll spoil you rotten if you let me."

"If I let you?" Alfonso slips back onto his stool, chin in his hand. "What does spoiling me rotten look like?"

"Feeding you, fucking you. Maybe some long hot baths now that I've seen your tub," Christos says with a grin, beginning to lay dishes of food out on the table. "A massage. A spanking."

Alfonso tries to resist the urge to squirm. "Will you let me show you the city?"

"I'd love that." Christos leans over to press a kiss to Alfonso's lips.

"Then I can see my way to letting you spoil me as well," Alfonso says with a small smile, clearly teasing.

Christos grins. "A meeting of the minds, excellent." He takes his seat and begins piling food onto his lover's plate. Only once that's done does he sip at his wine, letting the rich bouquet unfurl over his palate.

Alfonso inhales deeply. "It smells so good," he says, slicing into his pork, his mouth already watering.

"Give my best to Marisol. You're well-stocked," Christos says, spearing tenderloin for himself.

"You'll meet her. You can tell her yourself," Alfonso points out with a smile. "I don't care what my father or mother think of you, my brother either, but Marisol? Her, you have to impress."

Christos chuckles. "I've been warned, all right. And your assistant, the one who answers your phone while you're working, what's her name? Will I meet her too?"

"Nat?" Alfonso smiles, digging into his salad. "Si, you will meet her. She will have a lot of questions for you. You'll have to be careful. She likes to shock."

Christos quirks a brow at that and takes another sip of wine. "Is she going to give me all the gossip on you?" he teases. "Tell me what you get up to when you're alone?"

"Not if she wants to keep her job," Alfonso teases back. "She might let you in on a secret or two," he relents, taking another bite of pork.

"Then I'll make sure to be extra sweet to her," Christos says with a laugh. He finishes off his meal and picks up his wineglass. "Tomorrow I'll make a dessert as well. Tonight I just wanted to get us both fed."

"This isn't just fed," Alfonso says, still working on his dinner, savouring every bite. "You are a very good cook."

"I enjoy having someone to cook for. It gets dull going to all this trouble for just me. So you can expect more of the same," Christos says, smiling a little. "And you're a good eater, so we're well-matched."

Alfonso smiles back. "Eating's not exactly a skill," he points out, incredibly happy Christos is here with him.

Christos snickers, and teases, "If it makes you feel any better then I'll let you eat my cock. That's _definitely_ a skill." Crude, but true.

"It'll have to be a midnight snack," Alfonso laughs. "Or we'll both be regretting it," he adds, finally sitting back, his plate (almost) licked clean.

"I can live with that." Christos leans over and kisses Alfonso, lingering over his lips. "Does Marisol do dishes as well?"

Alfonso smiles at the kiss. "She does. I usually put what I can in the dishwasher and anything else to soak and she takes care of the rest."

"Perfect." Christos gets to his feet and begins clearing the table, doubling back to hold one last succulent morsel to Alfonso's lips. He makes quick work of cleaning up, and there's very little of the dinner left over. Drying his hands on a dishcloth, he tops up his glass of wine and sighs contentedly.

"What kind of work will you do while you're here," Alfonso asks, aware Christos has made arrangements with his boss.

"I'll do some remote programming for a firm we're working with," Christos answers, sighing at the reminder of reality. And he likes his job. "Can you set me up with your WiFi password before you fall asleep?"

"Si." Alfonso smiles. "Are you planning on staying up and working or waking up early?"

"That's a good question. I think I might sleep in for a couple days, just because I can. But after that, I'm sure I'll be back to rising early with the light." Christos holds out his hand to his lover.

Alfonso takes that hand and gives it a squeeze. "I still feel like I'm dreaming," he confesses softly. "That you couldn't possibly be here with me."

Maybe it would be easy to blithely brush off the words as mere flattery, but Christos reflects on them seriously. "I feel the same way," he answers, studying Alfonso's eyes. "I didn't think... I feel lucky to have this chance with you."

"There's still a part of me that wants to pull back, put the walls up, that fears dividing my attentions," Alfonso admits. "But I'm trying very hard to ignore it. I don't want to be alone, with nothing but my work. It's not a life, no matter how much I try to tell myself it is."

"You're right. But I'm fine with continuing to earn your trust. Day by day if I have to," Christos says, pulling his lover into his arms for a kiss.

Alfonso moans softly into Christos's mouth, pressing close, any fears of being too needy or of losing himself falling away with that kiss. He _does_ trust Christos. Trusts him more already than anyone he's ever known.

Christos lingers over the kiss, lazily exploring his lover's mouth. "I love your taste," he says huskily, and smiles faintly. "Take me to bed before I lose control on you again."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing," Alfonso murmurs, but he's already taken Christos's hand and is leading him back down the hall to the master bedroom.

"I'm trying to go easy on you," Christos protests, like it's any kind of protest at all. "We traveled today... If I'm off the mark, just tell me," he says, dropping his shorts. He's already half hard.

Alfonso laughs. "You can go easy on me tomorrow," he says, undressing as well, his eyes already locked on Christos, feasting on the sight of his lover.

"Well, then." That does it. Christos's cock swells full, and he crosses the room to cup Alfonso's face between his hands, kissing his lover with years of pent-up desire.

Moaning into the kiss, Alfonso responds eagerly, hands going to Christos's cock, his knees suddenly weak.

Christos growls at the touch, and breaks the kiss only to grab a condom and more lube. He pushes Alfonso back against the wall and hikes his thigh onto his hip, then presses two slippery fingers against his hole. Dipping just inside, and then deeper, working his way in and out as the resistance eases. "Yes, love," he whispers harshly, angling to rub against his lover's prostate.

Alfonso whimpers, stroking Christos, tearing the condom open and rolling it onto him, his hole fluttering around those fingers, aching, eager to be filled.

With a groan Christos hitches his hips and pushes just inside, then deeper, then home with a shout. His lover feels amazing, surrounding him, tight and hot and intense. He licks at Alfonso's throat, barely stopping himself before he sucks, pounding into him.

Crying out, Alfonso grabs at Christos's shoulders, hanging on as his lover drives into him, nailed to the wall and unable to move, forced to take it, a realization that makes his stomach flip and his cock go wet at the tip.

"Fuck, yes," Christos grates out, heat rushing through his body. It's not romantic. It's hungry, needy. Primal. "Touch yourself," he orders. "Come with me."

Alfonso drops a hand to his cock, stroking fast and hard, going over the edge in an instant when he feels Christos's cock swell that fraction further. "Ay, dios," he cries, head thumping back against the wall.

His blood pulses with aftershocks and Christos rides them out, pressing his forehead to Alfonso's shoulder and breathing hard. "So good," he whispers gruffly, far from eloquent at such a time. Even less than usual.

"Fantástico," Alfonso nods, hands stroking over Christos's shoulders. Absolutely done for.

With a soft grunt Christos eases out, one hand holding the condom tight. "Come to bed, my love," he murmurs, licking into Alfonso's mouth.

Alfonso nods again. "Si," he murmurs, moving to the bed, his legs feeling weak.

The condom dealt with, Christos lies down next to his lover, pulling the bedspread over them. He likes this part: the after, when they can be close but not frantic, and simply breathe each other in. "Not everyone likes this, you know," he says softly, his lips quirking. "But I do."

"Curling up together?" Alfonso clarifies.

"Yeah. Touching just to be close." Christos trails his fingers over his lover's shoulder.

"I like it," Alfonso says, although that's plainly obvious he knows. "You make me feel safe, which is not to say I don't normally feel safe," he quickly adds. "But like I can let things go."

"Good. It makes me happy to be that for you." Christos presses the back of his hand to his mouth to cover a large yawn.

Alfonso smiles at the yawn. "Should I let you go to sleep?"

"If you want me to ravish you again in the morning, probably," Christos snickers. "I need to get my stamina back up."

Alfonso laughs, shifting in Christos's arms so his lover's spooning him. "I tire you out, do I?"

"You do. Beautifully," Christos confirms with a kiss to Alfonso's nape.

"Just as long as it's a good thing," Alfonso murmurs, smiling and snuggling back into Christos's embrace.


End file.
